Midnight

My name is Tanaka Harumi. 16 years old and just like any other teenager (probably), am hating life. Don't be deceived by my name. It is Japanese but I was born and raised in America my entire life. That is until my father made a really selfish decision to move to Japan for the next part of my entire life.

"So much for touching the 'family roots'". I muttered under my breath, while bouncing my basketball on the pedestrian walk.

Not watching where I was going, I accidentally bumped into a streetlamp and my basketball rolled to the other end of the pedestrian walk. I immediately chased after my basketball. Upon retrieving it, I heard someone shouted from behind.

"Oi!"

I was convinced, that the 'oi' was meant for me.

"Please don't let it be me, please don't let it be me, please don't let it be me." I whispered repeatedly while hugging my basketball in a squatting position. Slowly, I turned my head and came face to face with the tallest guy I've ever seen in my entire life.

"Aren't you going to say sorry?!"

"Sorry?" I blurrily said out loud.

Oh. No.

"I'm sorry! I thought you were a streetlamp because you were so tall!" I bowed down while apologizing profusely.

"Meh, whatever." He replied.

When I looked up from my bowing position, I came face to face with a dark blue hair and tanned skin individual. His height? Probably around 190 cm. Handsome? Yes. Athletic built and of course, Japanese.

"I'm sorry! My basketball rolled over here… Are you angry, sir..?"

I gathered enough courage to look at him in the eye.

Dark blue eyes.

He has dark blue eyes.

So caught up with his eyes, I didn't notice that he stole my basketball from under my arm.

That guy is fast.

"If you're really sorry, you're going to have to find me, someway, somehow. Then you'll get your basketball back. Little miss klutz."

"NO WAY."

I jumped higher and higher each time he tried to bring the basketball higher using his arms. With one mighty jump, I gave one smack to the basketball and the basketball flew over his hand and bounced over his height. I gave chase after my basketball but he was chasing after it as well.

Not giving up eh? Fine.

Before I could grab the basketball which was millimeters away from my feet, he swooped it up using his hands and hid it behind his back.

"Not bad. I think you play basketball. How about a 1 on 1 match now? To get your basketball back." He teased.

Basketball.

The one thing that matters to me. My basketball scholarship got stolen away from me when I came to Japan. I miss basketball. I miss my team. I miss the sound of squeaks when our sole comes into contact with the basketball court. I miss the feeling of shooting into hoops. The adrenaline rush.

I miss basketball.

The basketball that he was holding is my treasure.

The last memory I have of fun, passion and tears.

"Please. Give it back."

"Huh?"

"Please. Just. Give it back."

I looked down, without looking at his face. A strand of hair dropped out of my hoodie. A tear rolled down my face. Then I heard my basketball bouncing on the pedestrian walk.

"Meh, whatever."

I watched, as he walked away, far from me.